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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Why, what's wrong, Jinny, old girl." asked Crips innocently, assuming a lounging attitude in the doorway. "You find the togs I'm wearin' a trifle too negligee, so to speak. They're quite the thing in our set." "Let me pass!" ejaculated the lady with crushing hauteur. Nickie was not impressed. He smiled, and continued dreamily: "My word, things have moved with you, Jinny.
His pockets were fairly-well lined, much of the proceeds of his professional engagement under Professor Thunder having been stored by Nickie as a provision for a long journey he was contemplating. Nickie the Kid had mapped out for himself a well-considered and wholly excellent scheme of life as a man of comparative affluence, but that life must be lived under alien skies.
Nevertheless there were occasions when Nickie the Kid deliberately undertook to earn his daily bread. For a week he served as waiter in a six penny restaurant. He had been a "super" in drama and a practical crocodile in pantomime and was long in the employ of a fashionable undertaker as second in command on the hearse.
There you are, a drink, or my resignation the loss of the most versatile Link in the profession." The Professor entered the Egyptian tent, and presently returned with a pint pannikin which he passed through to Mr. Crips. Nickie seized it greedily, raised it to his lips, and then changed his mind, and hurled it at Thunder with a furious imprecation. "Water!" snarled the Missing Link, "Water!
He walked to the gate for a better view, and discovered a strange object lying on the path. It was a false nose, a large, red, boosy nose, with, a length of elastic to hold it in its place. One of the guests had dropped it. Nickie put it on in a waggish humour, and stood moralising as three pretty Spanish dancers, in charge of a toreador, passed in.
It was Madame Marve who rescued Nickie from the clutches of the gorilla, having subdued the brute with a discharge from a squirt charged with ammonia; but Professor Thunder was not thankful, he hadn't time, his magnificent mind was already busy on ways and means of repairing the mischief done to his Missing Link and to his reputation as an honourable showman.
But for all this a certain sense of superiority was, never wanting in Nickie the Kid; the shabbiest clothes, a deplorable hat, fragmentary boots, shirtlessness, the most distressing situations all failed to wholly eliminate a touch of impudent dignity, a trace of rakish self-satisfaction which as a rule escaped the attention of his clients; but, here and there, a student of human nature found it delightfully whimsical.
The crowd continued yelling, and Nickie broke into a vain-glorious song, and capered like an idiot brandishing a Vienna loaf. Professor Thunder beat on his forehead like the baffled villain in the play. "Ten thousand furies!" he howled, and dashed for the stairs. While the Missing Link was still capering, Professor Thunder appeared at the window. He climbed through.
"Cures rheumatism in two hours. Gives instant relief in cases of neuralgia and sciatica. A little to be rubbed on the affected parts night and morning." The woman took the bottle, examined it closely, shook it up, and said, "It looks good." "It's invaluable, madam," replied Nickie, with quiet conviction. "No family should be without it. Two shillings, if you please."
Nickie had not left the cage all night, preferring to sleep in his skin rather than risk a sudden descent on the part of the enemy. "What'd yeh do it fer?" said the Skeleton; "a great lath-an'-plaster she-emu like that, too." "Not having anything else to do, Matthew," moaned the Missing Link. "I always was tender with women." "Well, yiv gotter look out, ol' man.
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